


In the Name of Sin

by Daichan



Category: MILGRAM (Music Videos), ヒプノシスマイク | Hypnosis Mic (Albums)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Murder, Murder Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:26:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28702884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daichan/pseuds/Daichan
Summary: You were supposed to carry out the orders given to you—nothing more, nothing less. At first glance, it seemed simple.Twelve prisoners, twelve choices.Their files were already placed on your desk when you awoke, manila folders carefully organized. Regardless of looks and appearance, profession and background, all of them shared one thing in common.They were murderers.Choose wisely.
Comments: 48
Kudos: 73





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hihi!! I'm so excited to announce the beginning of a huge project (≧◡≦) I wanted to start off 2021 with something special, and I absolutely love the Milgram series, so I combined the two universes and BAM! Overall, I'm super thrilled to share this with y'all｡ﾟ( ﾟ^∀^ﾟ)ﾟ｡I've created a carrd that contains all of the character profiles—their information is updated along with the story (linked below), so please check it out if you're interested!ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ
> 
> [In the Name of Sin](https://hypmicmilgramau.carrd.co/)

_Ideals. Freedom. Right._

_Power._

_Revenge. Morals._

_Wrong. Justice._

Just who decided on these things?

Was the weight of one life the same as another? Where was the line drawn between justice and injustice? Was there a right from wrong? 

Those were the questions that ran through your mind when you read the note given to you, explaining your role as prison guard at Milgram. You had no recollection as to how you ended up here, but something about the white-washed walls and winding hallways seemed...familiar. Even so, the note told you not to worry about any of that.

You were supposed to carry out the orders given to you—nothing more, nothing less. At first glance, it seemed simple.

Twelve prisoners, twelve choices. 

Their files were already placed on your desk when you awoke, manila folders carefully organized. Regardless of looks and appearance, profession and background, all of them shared one thing in common:

They were murderers. 

Your task was to hold a total of three trials, extracting enough information from the prisoners to determine the extent of their crimes. What kind of people were they? What were their motives? Thoughts? Interests? No matter how many questions you asked, there were only two answers—innocent or guilty.  
  


The note said that you would be able to view fragments of their memories during an allotted interrogation time, but the rest was up to your judgement. You didn’t know what would happen to the prisoners you deemed guilty, nor were you informed on what would happen to the ones you decided to forgive. 

Was it fair to make a choice? Whose authority were you working under? How did you even get here? Why couldn’t you remember anything? 

The note told you not to ask any questions—it wasn't like you would get answers anyway. 

Twelve prisoners, twelve choices. 

Their lives were in your hands.

_**Choose wisely.**_

**_xx/xx/xxxx_ **

_**** _


	2. Trial 1 - Ichiro Yamada

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even now, he was eerily calm—almost as if having his memories extracted was a normal occurrence. It wasn't like Ichiro really had a say in the matter, but you at least expected some form of retaliation from him. Instead, he looked like he was about to ask if you could hurry up. Reaching out, you hesitated. 
> 
> ...Could someone like him really be a murderer?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here woooo! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and I'm super excited to continue writing more in the future (>w<)! If you're interested in this series, I constantly update this [website](https://hypmicmilgramau.carrd.co/) to go along with the story!

**_Trial 1 - Ichiro Yamada_ **

“Ichiro Yamada?” Unlocking the door, you stepped inside of Cell 01. 

If you didn’t know Milgram was a prison, you would’ve mistaken this room for a normal bedroom. Everything was furnished nicely, from the small nightstand to the large bed. A desk was situated in the opposite corner, various books piled on top of the wooden surface. On the side, there was a slightly ajar door leading to a small restroom. Even the bookshelf seemed to be tailored towards the inmate’s taste, stocked with various manga and light novels. 

You assumed Prisoner 01 was in the middle of browsing said shelf—at least before you came in.

“You’re the prison guard?” Blinking, Ichiro did a double take. “You seem kinda...y’know what, never mind.” Extending his hand, he smiled. “The name’s Ichiro, but you probably already know that. Nice to meet you—got a name?”

  
He seemed laid back despite the situation, but you were still weary. After all, he wasn’t in Milgram for nothing. Hesitantly reaching out to shake his hand, you held your breath. The note said that as long as you followed orders, the prisoners would be unable to physically hurt you—considering that it was written by an unknown source, you didn’t place your bets on it being true. 

  
Then again, nothing about this whole scenario seemed real in the first place. 

“...Call me Es,” you mumbled. 

Ichiro hummed. “Es? That’s a strange name.”

“I’m not from around here.” 

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it wasn’t exactly the truth. You weren’t even sure where you were from, or what your _actual_ name was. All you knew was that you had to follow orders. If the paper stated that Es was your name, then you had no choice but to comply. 

“I see...So what’re you doing here? I never see you around the facility or anything.” Tilting his head to the side, Ichiro frowned. 

  
He might as well have been interrogating you with the amount of questions he was asking. In the end, there was no use sugar-coating anything you said—honesty was the best policy, or something along those lines. Plus, if he was so curious, then you didn’t need to find an elaborate way to explain everything.

“I’m here to extract your memories.” Watching him visibly stiffen, you sighed; it sounded unbelievable, but you would have to get him to cooperate—preferably without the use of force. “Don’t worry—as long as you don’t do anything stupid, I won’t hurt you. It’s just like a regular interrogation.”

_Only a bit more...unethical,_ you thought. 

Ichiro scoffed, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “You’re kidding me, right? There’s no way that’s even possible! Can’t you just ask questions normally?” 

Something akin to irritation itched beneath your skin, mild annoyance burning in the pit of your stomach. This whole situation wasn’t any easier for you—hell, you didn’t even know if any of this would even _work_ . The only option you had was to get this over with, preferably as quick as possible. You didn’t ever remember having this short of a temper, but then again, you _couldn’t_ remember anything about your life before Milgram.

If there was any reason to get angry, that would be the catalyst. 

“Look,” you gritted out. “I have my own orders to follow, and so do you. Prisoners shouldn’t question the authority of the guard, understand?”

The male looked slightly surprised at your sudden change in demeanor, grunting after a moment of thought. “Alright, I guess if you say so. Not like I got much of a choice. ” Shrugging, Ichiro took a seat at the edge of his mattress. “How does this whole...mind reading thing work anyways?”

“I have to just have to touch your forehead?” The statement came out as more of an inquiry, uncertainty dripping from your tone. 

That’s what the note said, right?  
  


“I dunno—you don’t sound so sure…”

  
  
“I know what I’m doing,” you replied sharply. 

Heterochromatic eyes stared at you expectantly, glinting beneath artificial light. Ichiro looked a lot older than his age, and there was an air of maturity around him that some of the other prisoners lacked. Even though you’d never talked to him personally, you observed the way he interacted with his brothers in the facility. He seemed to care about them a lot, whether it was giving them a pat on the back or scolding them for fighting. 

Even now, he was eerily calm—almost as if having his memories extracted was a normal occurrence. It wasn't like Ichiro really had a say in the matter, but you at least expected _some_ form of retaliation from him. Instead, he looked like he was about to ask if you could hurry up. Reaching out, you hesitated. 

...Could someone like him really be a murderer?

Sometimes looks were deceiving, right? At this point, there was only one way to find out.

Brushing your fingers across his forehead, your world was painted in hues of the past. 

* * *

**_xx/xx/xxxx_ **

It seemed like the world was out to get Ichiro today. As much as he appreciated the extra business, spending the majority of his day chasing a cat around town wasn’t exactly relaxing. Then again, it _was_ an odd-jobs business. Sighing, he unceremoniously flopped down on the couch. On the flip side, he wouldn’t have to miss the first episode of that new anime airing today. Jiro and Saburo would be back soon, so maybe they could watch it together. 

Right now, it wouldn’t hurt to read some of the manga he’d been saving. 

Apparently, the universe had other plans. 

A familiar tune broke him out of his thoughts, the muffled noise coming from his pocket. 

“Can I ever catch a damn break?” Groaning, Ichiro fumbled around for his phone, bringing the small device to his ear. “Hello?”

_“Is this Ichiro Yamada?”_ The voice coming from the speakers sounded too deep to be real—Ichiro noted that the other party was probably using a voice changer. 

As if that wasn’t suspicious enough. 

“Yeah, that’s me.” 

_“It’s an honor to be talking to the face of Ikebukuro himself. I heard that you run an odd-jobs business, correct?”_ _  
_

“Mhm.” A pause. “What can I do for ya?” 

_“We have a job for you that’s quite tricky, but nothing that a Yamada can’t handle. We need you to...eliminate a certain target, per say. Any methods are welcome, and you’ll be compensated quite handsomely.”_

Blood running cold, Ichiro pursed his lips. What did they mean by eliminate? Did they want him to _kill_ someone? Whatever it was, he didn’t like the sound of it—there was no way in hell he would take this job. He would probably have to trace the caller address and report it to the authorities just to stay on the safe side. 

The male cleared his throat. “Sorry...we’re not that type of business.”

_“Money’s not enough for you, hmm?”_ A pause. _“How about I make you an even better deal?”_

 _  
_ “Look,” Ichiro exclaimed. “It doesn’t matter how much you offer. I won’t accept this job.”

  
  
_“Really? Not even for—”_

* * *

**_Trial 1 - Ichiro Yamada_ **

The memory faded before you could make out the caller's words, their voice fading into nothingness. Ikebukuro morphed into a black expanse, pictures flashing rapidly before your eyes.

Footsteps. 

A knife. 

Blood. 

Phone calls. 

Red.

Everything happened too fast for you to comprehend, only a few select images burning themselves into your mind. Hesitantly retracting your fingers from Ichiro’s forehead, you sighed. The information was given to you, but it just wasn’t enough—everything was completely up to your own judgement. You felt a twinge of frustration at that fact, an uneasy feeling settling into the pit of your stomach. 

“Why?” Your question hung heavy in the air, atmosphere heavy with something you couldn’t place.

“I...did what I needed to do,” Ichiro muttered, meeting your gaze with a cold determination that wasn’t there before.

A part of you wanted to believe that he was being framed, that this was all just some sick joke you were forced to participate in. But from the look on his face, you knew that all of this was real. 

Just what kind of person was Ichiro? Did he regret it? Enjoy it? What led him to make that decision? Wasn’t he against it? What happened? 

  
The chime of a bell rang throughout the cell, breaking you out of your thoughts. Shoving any lingering questions to the back of your mind, you nodded at Ichiro and left. Locking the cell door, you briskly walked towards Cell 02. 

Time was of the essence, especially when it came to this whole memory extraction deal. 

...This wasn’t going to be as easy as you thought. 

_**xx/xx/xxxx** _


	3. Trial 1 - Jiro Yamada

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Whaddaya mean you gotta extract my memories?!” Glaring at you, Jiro growled. “I dunno what you did to Nii-chan, but I’m gonna make you pay!” 
> 
> Sighing, you massaged your temples. If this was what the second brother was like, you didn’t even want to imagine dealing with the third one. Hopefully, Saburo Yamada took more after Ichiro instead of this guy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyheyyyy! I'm back with Jiro's trial, and I really hope you enjoy this one! I love Jiro so much, so this chapter was really fun to write :D He's just so dumb but so loveable and I IJSADGHDJ NO WORDS ONLY LOVE <3 If you're interested in this series, I constantly update this [website](https://hypmicmilgramau.carrd.co/) to go along with the story!

**_Trial 1 - Jiro Yamada_ **

From the moment you stepped into Cell 02, you immediately knew that the interrogation wouldn’t go as smoothly as the previous one. While Ichiro was more intuitive and level-headed for his age, Jiro was...the exact opposite. The younger Yamada didn’t seem to inherit patience from his family tree, and regrettably, he was already testing yours. 

“Whaddaya mean you gotta extract my memories?!” Glaring at you, Jiro growled. “I dunno what you did to Nii-chan, but I’m gonna make you pay!” 

Sighing, you massaged your temples. If this was what the second brother was like, you didn’t even want to _imagine_ dealing with the third one. Hopefully, Saburo Yamada took more after Ichiro instead of this guy. 

Then again, you didn’t have very high expectations. 

“I didn’t do anything to your brother,” you exclaimed, crossing your arms. “When the facilities are opened later, you two can see each other.”

  
  
Jiro scoffed. “You think I’m just gonna believe you? You’re tryin’ to trick me!” Clenching his fists, the Yamada stomped his foot on the ground. “I won’t let you harvest my brain and dissect it!” The teen charged at you with fists raised, yelling loud enough to make you wince. 

You didn't know if he was dumb, stupid, or a mix of both. For once, you were glad that the rooms were sound-proofed.

Stepping to the side, you narrowly avoided the punch thrown at you. Before Jiro could swing again, you grabbed one of his arms and twisted it behind his back. 

“Oi! Lemme go, you piece of shit!” Flailing around, he tried—and luckily failed—to escape. 

Great, he had a foul mouth too. 

You shook your head. “There's no reasoning with you, huh?”

“No way am I gonna reason with a brain stealer!” 

You groaned—it looked like you would have to do this the hard way. Well, it wasn’t like things weren’t already difficult. 

Better to get this over with before Jiro started acting up again.

Brushing your fingers across his forehead, your world was painted in hues of the past. 

* * *

**_xx/xx/xxxx_ **

_“Jiro, did you forget your lunch?”_

_  
__  
__“You can have some of mine!”_

 _  
__  
__“Here, mine too!”_

_“I hope you like chocolates!”_

“Oh? Thanks…” Jiro stared at the pile of slowly accumulating goods on his desk, dumbfounded. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d forgotten his lunch, nor was it the first time his female classmates offered part of their bentos to him. Not like Jiro wasn’t grateful—he made sure to remember the manners Nii-chan had taught him, unlike his snobby brother. Being ungrateful wasn’t the problem at all.

Jiro just didn’t know how to deal with girls. 

They just liked to flock over to him for some odd reason. Jiro would consider himself well known, but not popular. Saburo called him an idiot and said that those phrases meant exactly the same thing, but then again, his younger brother probably looked that up on one of his fake internet dictionaries or something.

_“Hey, Jiro! Wanna go play soccer later?”_

_  
__  
__“Yeah, we have a spot on the team for you!”_ _  
  
_

“Huh? Really? You guys are the best!” Giving his classmates a thumbs up, Jiro grinned. “I’ll see ya later, then!”

_“Sweet!”_

_  
__  
__“We’ll totally win with Jiro on our team!”_

Yup, not popular—just well known. Of course, he wasn’t liked by _everyone_ , but that was to be expected! Jiro knew they were probably jealous that he had such a great Nii-chan. Opening one of the various plastic packages on his desk, the teen hummed. The melon bread looked fluffy and enticing, his mouth watering at the sight. It’d been awhile since he'd had any sort of sweet pastry, so he was looking forward to finally taking a bite. 

Well, that was until someone knocked the confection out of his hands. 

“Oi, the hell’s your problem?! I was ‘bout to eat that!” Pushing his seat back, Jiro grabbed the guy by his collar. 

“Yeah, and?”

“You wanna pick a fight?”

  
  
Their interaction had attracted some stares, students whispering and pointing in their direction. Maybe punching the living daylights out of this dude _wasn’t_ such a bad idea. It would be a good reminder to _not_ mess with him, especially when he was about to eat. 

“That pastry wasn't even yours to begin with,” the stranger scoffed, brushing Jiro’s hands away from his shirt. “Stay away from things that aren’t yours, dumbass.” 

“What did you just—” Before Jiro could finish his sentence, the other student spun around and walked out of the room. 

Man, he wished that he could’ve gotten a better look at the guy—not that they were just standing face to face or anything. Yeah, sometimes he just missed details when he was angry! He would get that jerk back one day…

**_For sure._ **

* * *

**_Trial 1 - Jiro Yamada_ **

School.

Class.

Water.

Anger. 

Letting Jiro go, you retracted your fingers away from his forehead. The familiar chime of a bell signified that your time was up, memories slipping from your mind.

“What did you do to me?! Did you take my brain?” The teen raised his voice, finger pointing accusingly at you. “Oi, answer me!”

“I don’t think you even had one to begin with,” you huffed, turning towards the door. “Anything else you want to tell me before I leave?”

“Like hell I’ll tell you anything!”

Furrowing your brow, you cursed internally. Jiro’s memories didn’t show you nearly as much as Ichiro’s did, leaving you back in square one and as frustrated as ever.

“I’ll know eventually,” you muttered, exiting the cell. 

As much as you wanted to stay and coax some more information out of him, you didn’t. Your head was already throbbing after dealing with the teen, and more time with him sounded like a disaster waiting to happen. Hell, you didn’t even _watch_ the murder happen this time. For all that you knew, Jiro was more interested in eating than killing. 

Why was Jiro’s memory so unclear? Ichiro’s was much more detailed, so what was his younger brother missing? Was he even _smart_ enough to kill someone? 

Maybe Saburo Yamada could answer some of your questions.

...God, you hoped that he was more intelligent than Jiro.

_**xx/xx/xxxx** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! (*´▽`*) If you're interested in keeping up with the story, feel free to follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/inthenameof_sin)!


	4. Trial 1 - Saburo Yamada

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This kid was somehow harder to deal with than Jiro, and that was saying something. Maybe it was in the condescending way he talked, or maybe it was in his scrutinizing gaze. Either way, you felt like Saburo was picking apart all of your insecurities and putting them on display for the entire world to see. 
> 
> It baffled you how quickly middle schoolers could sniff out someone’s deep-seated inadequacies and laugh at it in the same moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hihi! Back with another chapter wooo~ Sorry for being late with this one - got swept up in the DRB hype, and the DH vs BB performance was soooo good!! Rooting for both of 'em!
> 
> As always, thank you so much for following along, and I'll leave the website link below per usual~  
> [In the Name of Sin](https://hypmicmilgramau.carrd.co/)

**_Trial 1 - Saburo Yamada_ **

You’d hoped that the third Yamada was smarter than Jiro, and your wish was granted...well, sort of. Saburo was definitely extremely bright for his age, and you found it hard to believe he was so young. Of course, he was smarter than most individuals his age.

Too bad he also happened to be a _smart_ **_ass_ **. 

This kid was somehow harder to deal with than Jiro, and that was _saying_ something. Maybe it was in the condescending way he talked, or maybe it was in his scrutinizing gaze. Either way, you felt like Saburo was picking apart all of your insecurities and putting them on display for the entire world to see. 

It baffled you how quickly middle schoolers could sniff out someone’s deep-seated inadequacies and laugh at it in the same moment. 

You were partly glad that Saburo was too focused on bad mouthing Jiro to turn on you instead. 

“Jiro? Of course that idiot wouldn’t know any better.” Scoffing, Saburo rolled his eyes. “He’s always kicking that ball around outside instead of reading a book and using his singular brain cell.”

How did Ichiro even _deal_ with these two? 

Putting your newfound respect for the eldest brother aside, you simply nodded. Part of you wanted to tell the kid to be quiet so you could move on, but you knew that he would probably turn on you in an instant. Plus, it would be additional information—with that in mind, you weren’t exactly one to complain. Waiting patiently, you listened to Saburo prattle on about his meathead of a brother. 

“Jiro’s the type of person to always resort to violence,” Saburo remarked. “He’s so dumb, he probably doesn’t even know why he’s here!” Giggling to himself, the Yamada seemed lost in his own head. 

Well, with a brain like that, you wouldn’t be surprised. 

“Do you know why you’re here?” Speaking the question into life, you watched as the other’s expression slowly shifted into something darker, seriousness written on his features

Saburo shrugged. “Ichi-nii said that we’re here because we did something bad, but who knows? Theoretically, you can’t hold us here forever. You’re probably violating a law or two, but that’s a problem for the authorities to deal with.” 

Something about his cocky attitude irritated you, voice rising and falling in a mocking lilt. 

“Let’s just do this quickly.” You muttered. 

Saburo snickered. “Took you long enough.”

You chose to ignore his remark, a small sigh escaping your lips. 

Brushing your fingers across his forehead, your world was painted in hues of the past. 

* * *

**_xx/xx/xxxx_ **

In all honesty, Saburo didn’t need friends. He always brushed off Ichiro’s remarks regarding other people and socialization, preferring to focus on studying or other...enriching activities. Of course, he knew that his brother was probably just concerned for him, but he was fine. Really.

At least he could pass his classes unlike a certain _someone_. 

Glancing out of his bedroom window, Saburo’s brow twitched. That idiot was playing soccer in the yard with a group of other boys, kicking the ball haphazardly across the lawn. Honestly, he couldn’t understand why Jiro would waste his time doing such trivial things when his grades were lower than ever. 

“Dumbass,” Saburo muttered, pulling his curtains shut. 

A strange mix of emotions stirred in his chest, burning bright and pushing against his chest—it was almost as if he was yearning for something out of his reach, heart thumping to the beat of someone else’s tune. Saburo decided to chalk it off as hunger, because really, he wasn't jealous. He knew how to solve equations Jiro could never solve, knew how to gather connections that were way better than Jiro’s lame school friends. 

Plopping down on his chair, Saburo stared at the familiar monitors glaring back at him. With a click of his mouse they lit up, illuminating his face with vivid, blue light. With a tap of his keyboards, multiple tabs and windows flew past the screens. Names, messages, faces, data—nothing ever escaped Saburo’s notice when it came to tech. He could gain access to any site with minimal effort. 

Essentially, he had control over the internet.

Adjusting his headphones, he hummed as he browsed the webs. Owning a social media account wasn’t something beyond Saburo, but he preferred to move under the radar. He often posted on blogs as an anonymous user, not bothering to give any names or details. The web was a dangerous place—out of all people, he knew that the best. 

Afterall, Ichi-nii _did_ run an odd-jobs business.

But overall, Saburo didn’t mind. He felt the most comfortable online, as odd as it sounded. The people there didn’t care about whether he sat alone during lunch or ignored them during class—as long as he got the job done, nobody paid any attention to his username floating around. He could get away with practically anything and _everything_ as long as he was smart enough. 

Maybe that was for the best. 

* * *

**_Trial 1 - Saburo Yamada_ **

Nothing.

Blinking, you moved away from the younger male. There were no flashing memories or pictures, no scenes for you to base anything off of. Saburo’s mind was a blank slate—something you hadn’t encountered yet. If he didn’t kill anyone, why was he here?

No, he _had_ to have killed someone.

“I didn’t kill anyone, if that’s what you're wondering,” Saburo remarked. “What? It’s not like I won’t comply with your investigation or whatever. I’m not _stupid_.” 

“But…” Trailing off, you pursed your lips. 

  
Were Saburo’s memories influenced because he thought he was innocent? If that was true, then…

None of the prisoners were reliable sources. 

With that thought the bell rang, signaling the end of Saburo’s interrogation. Shaking your head, you exited the cell without sparing a backwards glance. You had a sneaking suspicion that the Yamada probably stuck his tongue out at you or something. Childish, but expected.

Walking down the winding hallway, you almost felt sorry for the person he supposedly killed. 

**_xx/xx/xxxx_ **

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! (*´▽`*) If you're interested in keeping up with the story, feel free to follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/inthenameof_sin)!


	5. Trial 1 - Samatoki Aohitsugi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something about that second Yamada brother and mister gangster yakuza over here pissed you off—probably their attitudes, but you weren’t one-hundred percent sure. Samatoki was definitely more level-headed than Jiro; instead of attacking you right off the bat, he seemed to be analyzing how much of a fight you could put up. 
> 
> He wasn’t any ordinary run-of-the-mill thug, that was for sure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyhey! Man, this week's been busy, but I'm excited to release Samatoki's chapter :D! The guy definitely has a special place in my heart, so I hope you enjoy! If you're interested in this series, I constantly update this [website](https://hypmicmilgramau.carrd.co/) to go along with the story!

“What the hell are ya doin’ here? Hah?!” Hitting the wall with his fist, Samatoki scowled. “I’m gonna kick your ass and—”

  
  
Tuning the male out, you stared at him with disinterest. Something about that second Yamada brother and mister gangster yakuza over here pissed you off—probably their attitudes, but you weren’t one-hundred percent sure. Samatoki was definitely more level-headed than Jiro; instead of attacking you right off the bat, he seemed to be analyzing how much of a fight you could put up. 

He wasn’t any ordinary run-of-the-mill thug, that was for sure. 

“I’m just here to do my job,” you deadpanned. “If you don’t follow along, _I’ll_ be the one kicking _your_ ass.”

  
  
You didn’t expect Samatoki to bark out a laugh, the harsh sound bouncing across the walls. “That a challenge?”

You shrugged. “It’s whatever you want it to be.”

  
  
“Huh.” If Samatoki had a cigarette, you felt like this was the moment he would’ve taken a drag. “If ya wanted a fight, then you would’ve already gone for the first punch. Why the hell are ya here, then?”

“Just following orders.”

  
  
Both of you were practically in the same boat. Neither of you knew why you were here, but you both wanted to return to your former lives. Milgram didn’t have the feeling of normalcy that the outside world possessed, and you could tell that it was taking a toll on everyone here. But Samatoki seemed oddly comfortable, almost as if he wasn’t bothered by the fact he was here. 

You knew he wanted to get out—everyone did—but it wasn’t to return back to his regular life.

That was what interested you the most. 

Samatoki grumbled. “Ya probably have a weapon or somethin’, so I ain’t gonna do anythin’ stupid. Just do what you came to do and get the fuck out.” 

Some level of acceptance was better than none, you supposed. 

“It’ll be quick,” you reassured, reaching out. 

"Well then hurry up," he shot back.

Brushing your fingers across his forehead, your world was painted in hues of the past.

* * *

**_xx/xx/xxxx_ **

Ever since he was little, Samatoki learned not to grow attached to people. He learned not to rely on adults, learned how to grow up faster than any other kid his age. There was nobody who he could call family—his mother decided to leave them, and his father…

Samatoki didn’t even want to think about him. 

He had nobody except for his younger sister, so he made the sole decision to protect her with all he had. Samatoki tried his best to be the father and mother she didn’t have, shouldering a responsibility that was much too large for his tiny shoulders. No matter how much they grew, Samatoki always made sure to keep an eye out for her. 

“Oi, Nemu,” the albino exclaimed, taking a drag on his cigarette. “Why are ya dressed up all fancy like that?” 

“Huh?” Tilting her head to the side, the girl glanced at him wearily. “It’s nothing…”

  
  
Samatoki scoffed. “If you’re meetin’ a boy or something—”

  
  
“Tell you—I know, I know!” Nemu put her hands on her hips, lips pressed into a thin line. “And what did I say about smoking in the house?” Grabbing the cigarette away from Samatoki, she stubbed the cancer stick out in a nearby ashtray. “How many times do I have to tell you that smoking’s bad for your health?” 

“Hey! I was...nevermind,” Samatoki grumbled. 

He couldn’t help a small chuckle from escaping his throat, the taste of tobacco sweet on his tongue. It tasted just like the lollipops his mom told him not to eat too much of, because too much sugar was bad for his health. In some ways, Nemu mirrored their mother. They were the splitting image of each other—white locks kept shoulder-length and neat, contrasting against soft, pink orbs. There was something about the way that Nemu held herself, something about the way she laughed. 

Samatoki’s mother was haunting them in the kindest way possible. 

“Be back before dark,” he exclaimed, waving her towards the door. “You better call me if somethin’ comes up, ‘kay?”

Nemu’s gaze lit up, a wide grin gracing her flawless features. “I will, I will! You better not smoke any more by the time I’m home again, or else I won’t be cooking dinner today.” With that she stepped out of the house, the door closing with a soft _click_. 

Samatoki briefly wondered what was for dinner, absently lighting another cigarette and placing it on his lips. 

* * *

**_Trial 1 - Samatoki Aohitsugi_ **

Fried fish.

Vegetables. 

Pots and pans. 

Cutlery.

The images of everyday items flashed before your eyes as you retracted your fingers, nothing out of the ordinary piquing your interest. You glanced at Samatoki, who was still glaring at you. 

“What are ya lookin’ at, huh?” Smoldering red burned into your eyes, glimmering with anger and something you couldn’t place. 

He looked lonely—sad. 

The albino seemed less scary the more you really looked at him. You felt a twinge of sympathy in your chest, but you shook it off as the bell rang. If you stayed here any longer, Samatoki would lose his patience and you would lose precious time. 

“I don’t care what ya think about me,” he growled as you turned away. “Either way, I’ll be gettin’ the hell outta here sooner or later.”

You sighed. “She must’ve been important to you, huh?” 

“...Get out.” 

Exiting the cell, you locked the door behind you. You didn’t know exactly what to think of Samatoki—all of your emotions seemed to mix together when it came to that guy. Good or bad, he seemed like he could lean on both sides. You’d have to tip the scale somehow, but that was a problem for later. 

You had a long day ahead of you. 

_**xx/xx/xxxx** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! (*´▽`*) If you're interested in keeping up with the story, feel free to follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/inthenameof_sin)!


	6. Trial 1 - Jyuto Iruma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You found it ironic that someone who worked under the law was the same person you had to interrogate. Jyuto Iruma stood unfazed in front of you, not a hair out of place despite the situation. You had to give it to him—he seemed charming at first glance, and he probably was. 
> 
> At the same time, it was those same charms he would probably use to slip out of this situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hii! Long time no see XD I apologize for the one week delay—life got a lil' bit funky and work started to pile up (╥ω╥) But I'm super excited to release this chapter today :D!! Jyuto is sneaky and I love him for it LOL As always, I hope you enjoy reading and check out the [website](https://hypmicmilgramau.carrd.co/) for more updates~ Until next time ;3

**_Trial 1 - Jyuto Iruma_ **

You found it ironic that someone who worked under the law was the same exact person you had to interrogate. Jyuto Iruma stood unfazed in front of you, not a hair out of place despite the situation. You had to give it to him—he seemed charming at first glance, and he probably was.

At the same time, it was those same charms he would probably use to slip out of this situation.

“Es, was it?” His smooth voice snapped you out of your stupor, floating across the room like a set of pleasant piano chords.

You nodded. “Word travels fast.”

“It sure is a small world, hm?” Fixing his glasses, the cop flashed a tight-lipped smile in your direction. “I assume you didn’t come here for a friendly chat.” 

“You already know what I’m here for,” you exclaimed, stepping closer. 

“My my, you give me too much credit,” Jyuto chuckled, the sound rich and full. “I simply pay attention to detail.” 

Something about his calm manner unnerved you, setting you on edge almost instantly. Even though you were the prison guard, you felt trapped under his gaze. Clearing your throat, you reached out.

“Can I?”

  
  
“By all means, go ahead.” 

That was...surprisingly easy. Narrowing your eyes, you waited for some sort of sneak attack or counter from the man, but none came. Maybe you were just being paranoid—only time would tell.

Brushing your fingers across his forehead, your world was painted in hues of the past.

* * *

**_xx/xx/xxxx_ **

Jyuto had to admit—although he was supposed to be a cop, he didn’t exactly surround himself with the best people. If he had to describe his relationship with Samatoki, it would be as unrefined as the beer he was currently drinking. Making a face as he swallowed the bitter liquid, Jyuto resisted the urge to gag and spit it right into the albino’s face. He wasn’t a big fan of beer, but Samatoki _insisted_ —he always did—that they all had a drink together. 

It was either one of Rio’s concoctions or beer, and Jyuto _much_ preferred the latter. 

Wine tasted better, but he wasn’t about to beg Samatoki to crack out the collection for his sake. Glancing around, Jyuto watched as his acquaintances downed their drinks with no problem. 

“Oi, why are ya givin’ me that look?” Scoffing, Samatoki pursed his lips. “Store-bought beer too cheap for ya?” 

“You know I don’t like beer,” Jyuto responded, setting his bottle down. 

“I could make you a lavender drink,” Rio offered, staring at the two with a level gaze. “It’s good for your health and helps with digestion.”

  
  
If there was one thing that Jyuto and Samatoki _could_ agree on, it was that there was absolutely _no way_ they were drinking whatever Rio managed to cook up. He was bound to put some...less than desirable ingredients in the mix if left unsupervised. Giving the yakuza a knowing look, Jyuto cleared his throat. 

“Erm...I appreciate the offer, but I still have to finish my beer.” To prove his point, the cop took a swig of the alcohol and grimaced. “A daunting task, really.” 

Samatoki just nodded along, lips twitching in a nervous smile. “Y-yeah, we already have a lot to drink, so…”

“Ah, that’s true,” Rio exclaimed. “It’s best to conserve our resources just in case.” 

“Uh huh…”

A heavy silence fell over the group, stifling but not incredibly uncomfortable. They’d grown used to each other's presence during their time together—enough to set aside their differences and _not_ tear the house down. Jyuto thought that it was interesting that such a diverse mix of people could somewhat get along, but then again, they were all doing this for their own benefit. 

Perhaps they were all selfish like that, or maybe it really was considered teamwork. 

Either way, there was no backing out now. They could only cling to whatever they had now and climb on each other’s shoulders to reach the top—not the most graceful arrangement, but it had to do for now.

Standing up, Jyuto straightened out his tie. “Thanks for the drink—I’ll come back and finish it later.”

Samatoki grunted. “Leavin’ so early? What happened to ya preachin’ about manners or some shit?” 

“I have better things to do than to teach you how to be civilized,” Jyuto bit back, walking towards the hallway. “Please excuse me.”

“Good luck,” Rio chimed in, offering a small wave. “Come back alive.”

And with that, Jyuto stepped into the night.

Closing the door behind him, he let out a sigh. The sky was pitch-black, stars twinkling in the vast expanse. He wondered if there was an unspoken law up there, or if the solar system was as corrupt as civilization. Only time would tell in the end. Pulling a lighter and cigarette out of his pocket, Jyuto held the nicotine stick to his lips. Puffs of smoke wafted into thin air, slowly drifting behind him and disappearing as he trudged onwards. 

_Manners, huh?_

* * *

**_Trial 1 - Jyuto Iruma_ **

Beer. 

Bitterness.

Cigarettes. 

Night time. 

There was nothing explicitly horrible that stood out to you other than the fact that both Jyuto and Samatoki smoked. That wasn’t necessarily a _bad_ thing, but it was the worst you could find. Staring at the cop, you frowned. 

“Were my memories not sufficient enough for you?” Raising a brow, Jyuto hummed. “I’m afraid I have nothing left to offer...unless you have something else in mind?” 

Shaking your head, you pursed your lips. A glint was still present in emerald orbs, mocking you silently beneath artificial light. Jyuto’s mouth curved into a sly smile, eyes narrowing and resembling those of a fox. There was something unsettling about the male—something you couldn’t place at first glance. 

Maybe you weren’t meant to find out. 

Jyuto gave you a wave as the bell rang, dipping his head slightly. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”

  
  
“It’s not like you’re going anywhere,” you muttered, exiting the cell.

Honestly, that guy was too much of a prick for his own good. He was obviously trying to get under your skin with that gentleman act he was putting on—you hated to admit it, but it was working. Groaning, you trudged down the hall. Judging from Jyuto’s memory, Rio didn’t seem like too much of a troublemaker. You would occasionally watch him cook something in the kitchen, and he was pleasant to make conversation with.

At this point, you didn’t really have any expectations.

_**xx/xx/xxxx** _

_**** _


	7. Trial 1 - Rio Mason Busujima

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Go ahead.”
> 
> He seemed genuine enough, but then again, he could probably snap you in half without trying. But you had a feeling he wouldn’t, so you stepped closer without hesitation. Rio stood unmoving—watching, waiting, receiving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiii! I'm so sorry for the late release orz I got so caught up in the Matenrou drama track, and I'm still a bit shaken up about it HAHA But enough of my MTR bias QUQ Writing this chapter for Rio was super fun, and the guy's starting to grow on me T^T I hope that you enjoy, and thank you for stopping by per usual! ヽ(*・ω・)ﾉ
> 
> If you're interested in this series, I constantly update this [website](https://hypmicmilgramau.carrd.co/) to go along with the story!

**_Trial 1 - Rio Mason Busujima_ **

When you stepped into Rio’s cell, you didn’t expect the man to be asleep. Well, he  _ was  _ asleep. The moment you closed the door he shot up, reaching to grab an invisible neck. Strong fingers closed around the air’s windpipe, crushing any remaining oxygen under their grasp. Luckily, you were all the way on the other side of the room. Blue orbs pierced through your form—watching, waiting, receiving. 

You let out an awkward cough that sounded more like a wheeze, the taste of an apology on the tip of your tongue. At one point in your life, you were sure that you would have said sorry. But that wasn’t who you were now. 

That you was already long gone. 

Rio didn’t seem to take any offense at all, a small nod of his head indicating a greeting. The man didn’t seem very talkative, and you found it hard to believe his gentle demeanor had the potential to kill. Whenever you let him use the kitchen, he always handled the ingredients with care and precision. You didn’t expect him to be a good cook, but then again, the ingredients he chose weren’t exactly...ordinary.

For once, you were glad that Samatoki and Jyuto were here to deal with that.

“Do you need anything?” Rio’s voice was gruff against your ears—husky after his disturbed slumber. 

“Just here to do my job,” you responded, shrugging. “It’ll be quick. Just let me touch your forehead and we’ll call it a day—you probably already know the drill.” 

Rio blinked, a slow motion that felt longer than normal. He eventually heaved himself out of the bed in one fluid motion, muscles rippling beneath his shirt. Intimidation seemed to be his strong suit, even when he was just standing around idly. 

“Go ahead.”

He seemed genuine enough, but then again, he could probably snap you in half without trying. But you had a feeling he wouldn’t, so you stepped closer without hesitation. Rio stood unmoving—watching, waiting, receiving.

_ Trustworthy, huh? _

Brushing your fingers across his forehead, your world was painted in hues of the past.

* * *

**_xx/xx/xxxx_ **

Surprisingly, the days were peaceful. 

Rio was used to high-tension scenarios, used to the way his muscles pulled taut when running across rugged terrain. Life in the city wasn’t something he could immediately adapt to, so he preferred camping out in the woods. He felt safer when he could lay traps around his tent. The last time he tried to place some in the apartment, Samatoki almost stepped in it. 

Fortunately, no legs were chopped off that day. Rio felt a bit bad for scaring his teammate like that, but the albino was always too full to accept a meal from him. 

Food always tasted better with company, so Rio was always disappointed when the others couldn’t eat with him. He knew that his choice of ingredients was exotic, to say the least, but he always made sure to take quality into account. Staring at the pot of soup resting over the fire he made, Rio heaved out a sigh. The flames flickered and danced through the darkness, emanating a soft glow in the encroaching hours of night. 

Samatoki and Jyuto would most likely come and visit soon. Rio constantly had to remind himself that the only battle he waged was with words, not guns. There was nobody waiting to backstab him, nobody waiting to emerge from the bushes and catch him by surprise. 

The days were mundane. Peaceful. 

Yet something about it all unsettled him. 

He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise with each passing second, mind battling with the thought that this whole situation could just be the calm before the storm. There was always more to any scenario at face value, more to any battlefield at first glance. 

He knew this all too well, and yet nobody understood. 

A squirrel skittered past his form, the pattering of tiny paws against solid ground doing nothing to calm his nerves. It skittered to and fro, weaving through the veil of night as stealthily as possible. The creature reminded Rio that he wasn’t alone—he was never alone. Maybe he found solace in that fact, maybe he didn’t. 

At this point, he didn’t know.

Staring into the campfire, Rio viewed his sentiments painted by that vivid, burning red.

* * *

**_Trial 1 - Rio Mason Busujima_ **

Forest.

Fire.

Tents.

Camping supplies.

You pulled away, blinking rapidly to adjust back to your normal surroundings. Rio’s obsession with the outdoors explained his love for odd ingredients, but it didn’t come close to explaining his crime. The sound of fire crackling echoed in your ear, smoke rising into the air and drifting to another world beyond.

“I apologize if it wasn’t what you were looking for,” he exclaimed, expression blank. 

At one point in your life, you were sure that you would have reassured him. But that wasn’t who you were now. You were pulled by the sound of a bell, piercing through thick walls and reverberating around your skull. Everything here flowed because of some unknown person’s command, unknown morals crawling beneath your skin.

  
It made you somewhat bitter, somewhat sad. 

Lonesome blue burned into your back as you exited the cell, fingers lingering on the door with a hesitant uncertainty. There was no evidence to follow, no tracks to trace. You had to start from scratch, counting from one to twelve.

You wondered what Rio saw in those all-consuming flames.

_**xx/xx/xxxx** _

_**** _


	8. Trial 1 Voting (BB and MTC)  - Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Six prisoners, six choices.
> 
> Choose wisely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so, so much for following along with the project so far! (≧◡≦) I can't believe we're already halfway through Trial 1; time really does fly! I'm really excited to see what the outcomes will be, and what you all think about the prisoners so far~ (b ᵔ▽ᵔ)b If you're interested in this series, I constantly update this [website](https://hypmicmilgramau.carrd.co/) to go along with the story!

Voting will be open as a poll on the [Twitter](https://twitter.com/inthenameof_sin) account. The polls will be pinned, lasting twenty-four hours each. A new poll will be opened the next day, and participants can cast a new vote again. There will be daily updates on the prisoners’ statuses as well. Once two weeks have passed, the votes will be tallied up to determine the outcome of Trial one, and whether they will be listed as innocent or guilty. Trial one's voting period for Buster Bros and Mad Trigger Crew will last from March 15th to March 29th.

The prisoners’ song choices and how much they reveal next round will be altered based on the voting results.

Six prisoners, six choices. Choose wisely.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! (*´▽`*) If you're interested in keeping up with the story, feel free to follow me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/inthenameof_sin)!


End file.
